Outside the Grand Ball [Closed]

As lively as it was inside the ball, fresh air was a welcome change as Darron made his way outside. Once outside he mingled with a number of groups before noticing one Loreia out for air, finishing up his conversation he made his way over.

"Ser Loreia, greetings, how are you doing this evening?"

Earlier, in the great hall:
"Please excuse me, I need to grab some air."

Redness gone after speaking with a familiar face or two whom neither stared nor scoffed, Loreia saunters out of the great hall to the courtyard. She stretches near a stone ledge and breathes, enjoying a solitary moment to ponder. A few moments pass, and she surveys the area for another familiar face, one with an elongated snout and prowling low to the ground. From some corner near where she came out, as if sensing her searching eye, her canine friend comes prancing over, and practically halts on a copper when she shies back, careful not to ruin the dress. She smiles and reaches down to stroke his fur. Hello, faithful pet.

An unfamiliar voice causes her to start, and she straightens up and looks to see who it comes from: a young man, barely 20 by the look of it, with stone and salt in his eyes and features, in some fancy clothes. Not a mere soldier with the Longshores in attendance.

"Both of my...charges, have been wed. They and the ladies in their matches are well-suited for each other. I couldn't be happier for them," she answers. Her attitude is no less lax, though there's some tension to how she shifts her posture. "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Listen to me talk! I think I could get used to this...

With House Longshore no doubt. Dressed fancy, must be a nobleman. Yoren's cousin, nephew? Younger brother?

"Well that's wonderful to hear, I have heard only good things about the four of them." Responding with a smile.

"Darron Greyjoy, but truly the pleasure is all mine." With a chuckle and a flourish meant more for comedy than seriousness.

"I'm sure you must sick of hearing this tonight but that is a most beautiful dress, are you as skilled with a needle and thread as you are horse and lance?"

One does not prickle at praise unless it is faintly damning, and yet... What was Yoren thinking, inviting a Greyjoy? Well, it can't be helped. Even if he were not part of Yoren's house, Daveth had opened invitation to all, including House Greyjoy.

Wait...did he say 'Darron Greyjoy'? From that letter?

She straightens her posture to look past her nose at him, almost tasking given his height is one-tenth of a meter shorter than hers. "...No, little reaver. If you would like to complement the one who made my dress, introduce yourself to Lady Corrine. You should know that I have little and less time to spare for your type."

Little reaver? I'm almost as tall as you! Does she also think Ironborn can only be reavers? A slight frown is on Darrons face as he thinks about this leading into what he says.

"Reaver? No, that's something i'm not, I have been a retainer to House Longshore for a number of years doing a balancing act between enforcing the laws of The Longshore's lands and protecting the family.  So with that does it still leave me in the type of person you don't have time for?

There's a small pause before she answers. "Maybe not."

Forgive me if I ruin your happy day, Daveth.

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. I've only known Ironborn who raid and reave, and those who support it. At least one I know, if barely more than that, would like to change a few minds about it; though frankly, I'm not holding out much hope. So which one are you, Darron Greyjoy?"

"You are correct in that many do raid and reave across the narrow sea, but there is also those that do other things such as fishermen. The old ways teach that Ironborn shouldn't work the land but there are many jobs that don't involve that."

"I don't put much hope in it changing anytime soon Ser Loreia. It's a ingrained part of Ironborn culture and with the ire from most houses the resources the Ironborn need will be reaved for instead of traded. I want the best for my people Ser Loreia and I believe the reaving of westeros has done more damage than good. Does that answer your question?"

Loreia's judging eyes seem to pierce less and less as she listens to Darron's consummate reply. Have I met Daveth's long-lost twin from the Iron Islands?

Her voice cools, losing much of the flare of her harsh temper. "You've thought about this at length... The point I consider above all else is that the people of the Iron Islands still have a choice: reave, or trade. Raid, pillage, and carry off smallfolk as they always have, or work to better themselves in spite of the clear disadvantage to simply taking what they want."

But they won't. They'll continue to cross the Narrow Sea and visit their harm on others outside of the Seven Kingdoms, between rebellions. And the only regret I'll have in life is not taking more of their kind with me into the next world.

"But I feel you and I have started on the wrong foot," she salves, "and I must get around to finally apologizing. You're not what I thought you were, I'm sorry for telling you off and dismissing you without knowing you first. Here I am at a wedding, Daveth's no less, and I still manage to come up with ways to make his job more difficult for him." The word "sorry" comes out like swallowing sheep's wool, but in reverse.

"A great deal, but I imagine your not very interested in my full thoughts besides what I have said."

After hearing what Loreia has to say Darron begins to relax again with a smile returning, just being glad that he isn't going to get a black eye.

"Please don't worry about it Ser Loreia all is forgiven, perhaps you could make it up to me by accepting a offer to dance?"

Female knights are allowed to dance right? Shit what if I get a black eye for this never mind my upbringing.

[OOC I have never heard that expression before and I really don't have a clue what it means lol.]

[Really? Basically it means to mistakenly become ill-acquainted with someone. One makes a wrong assumption, or leaves a false impression, and it just leads to a sour relationship. It often implies you want to leave a good first impression, or wish you had and want to start over.]

Not in a thousand years. "Thanks, but um, I'm not sure how that would look to the others in attendance." He probably has no idea. "Before I joined House Coldbrook, I was born and raised on Mormont land further north."

[Yea its not a thing that at least I haven't heard in Ireland sorry. But yea thanks for expanding on it. also just realised I didn't get a update when a new post came through in this thread weird.]

"No its understandable wouldn't want to give the wrong impression."

Mormont? Further north... Oh fuck, and I just..Fuck!

"Oh, uh."

Sigh

"Look, i'm sorry if I had known I would't have even brought up dancing."

Mightn't have even had this meeting...

"Perhaps we should have a change of subject? Are you planning on participating in the melee?"

Huh, he's almost as nervous as Yoren was when we met. He is younger, though.

Her mouth teases out a faint, lopsided grin. Haha, "let's change the subject, do you like swords?" Why yes, I do! Stop it, just give him a compromise. "Don't worry about it. Yes, I am. If we're ever in a group together, would you like to team up?"

"Yes, that sounds good to me, I would offer to drink on it but I don't like drinking before combat. Wouldn't want to hit a team mate with a sloppily thrown axe you know?"

She chuckles. "No, that just sounds bad for everyone involved. I don't know the rules about throwing, it might be smart to check with Daveth first."

omitted:

"Yea wouldn't want to be disqualified for using a illegal weapon. I hope you do well Ser Loreia but not too well of course I would still like to win!"

"Do you have any idea of who else might be taking part in the melee? Anyone I should keep a eye out for?"

Almost playfully, she replies "We'll see about that, Greyjoy." Banter over martial matters and competition; this is her element.

For a brief moment, her eyes glint with guile at his question. You're looking at one of them. "Hmm...Lord Drakeson is a big player. Hiding behind that treacly smile is a true warrior. He survived the grand melee in Riverrun with hardly a scratch by the time it was just the two of us."

"Gods help us all if the giant heir of Dulver is fighting. It would take three people to bring down Ser Walton. Haven't seen his name on the list, so I hope that means what I want it to mean. Wouldn't be very fun if he entered every tourney and won, which is likely."

"Yes I had the pleasure of meeting Lord Drakeson, quite the accomplishment from the sounds of it but I must admit I wasn't present during the Riverrun tourney."

"Yes I imagine the gamblers wouldn't be a big fan of one unstoppable man. Wouldn't make for much of a show either or maybe it would depending on his showmanship."

"I agree. Be mindful of Ser Jorah the Kingsguard. And if Aerion Storm fights as well as he rides...watch out. He's no hedge knight either, he's a squire for House Baratheon, and he's been kept in training for a long time."

"Good luck in the melee, Darron. And enjoy the wedding."

I think I've had my chance to catch a breath.

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"I will keep an eye out for them that's for sure."

"And good luck to you, Ser Loreia. Ill be trying my best that's for sure."

With a finale smile and nod Darron returns to the ball.

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